


The three-sovereign-arrangement

by XenCrow (DaintyCrow)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Friendship, Open to Interpretation, Out of Character, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5687713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyCrow/pseuds/XenCrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God created the world. Created heaven, created life. No surprise he knows  King of Hell and Death, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The three-sovereign-arrangement

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [The three-sovereign-arrangement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698000) by [DaintyCrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyCrow/pseuds/DaintyCrow)



> Don't rally know how it came to this one, but I hope you enjoy and if you have a hint or find a mistake or want to let me know your opinion I'd be really glad about it.

“And, how's heaven?”  
Chuck looked up from his paper with the newest Writings about Sam and Dean. “It's fine,” he said. “Or at least I think so. Wasn't there in a while.” He shrugged.  
“Really?”  
Chuck sighed. “Yeah, bur heard and saw a few things. Think Metatron is up there or something?”  
“Yeah, heard that too. This is over now.”  
“Really? That's good, I think. How's hell?” He eventually looked back down to his papers.  
Crowley just shrugged. “Hell is hell.” He looked to the man beside the two of them who hadn't said anything at all until now. “And what's about you?” the King of Hell asked.

The man just continued eating his pizza, before he eventually looked up. “People dying as always. Didn't change much since ever.”  
The two other man sighed. “Oh, we know.”  
Chuck even laughed. “Definitely yes. But heaven's doing it without me now.”  
“Lucky you.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “I have to torture more souls than ever. I just don't know or understand why people always think they have to be evil. Or why they think they can do whatever they want. Sometimes I have the feeling, that no one even tries to be good.”  
Chuck sighed. “I know exactly what you're talking about. But just leave hell on it's own. Worked with heaven too. I'm sure they'll manage it somehow.” He took his pen and wrote down something on one of his papers.  
“Maybe.” Crowley nodded and leaned back. “But they couldn't conjure you, could they?”  
“That's true,” Chuck agreed, and Crowley turned to the third of them. “How do you get along with your job?”  
“I have my reapers,” Death simply said and gripped his cup before taking a few sips from his tea. “What do you think about this pizza?” he changed the subject.  
Chuck shrugged. “It's okay. Don't even remember the last time I ate something this good. Lived the last years only from frozen pizza and burgers.”  
Crowley sighed. “Maybe, yes. I think it's fine.”  
Death nodded slowly, before he put by the cup. “We should have gone to Italy. They've good pizza over there. Not all, but enough. There was a restaurant in the early 20th that made very good pizza.”  
Crowley laughed. “Probably all dead now. You collected their souls?”  
Death shrugged. “Maybe, can't remember. Collected many souls after that, you know? Lot of wars, and demons, and also hunters. And now that we talk about this one, what happened with this Winchester guys. Didn't hear about them for a while.”  
“They're alive,” Crowley only said.  
“And they've one of my angels. Castiel. You know about him, wrote it in the books,” Chuck added.  
“Then they're probably fine, because they also have all of their souls from what I know, and I should know.”

“True thing.” Crowley nodded and then drank from his glass. “I don't like their beer here. It's better in Ireland. Next time we've to go somewhere else.”  
Chuck just nodded slowly, eyes still on the paper, since he hadn't looked up after the first time. “Don't care, I eat everything.”  
“You should go out more often, you know? Since you're God, you could at least go out and see what you made.”  
Chuck shook his head. “No, I've to write. I'm almost done with the end.”  
“Oh, again?” Crowley asked interested.  
“How do you plan to get them back this time?” Death asked. “Or how do you plan me to get them back this time?”  
“I don't,” was the only thing Chuck said. “I don't speak of the Winchesters dying again, I speak of finishing the story and the end of the books. It's over soon.”  
“Will they stop hunting?” Crowley looked at him, while taking again a sip from his beer, and then making a face.  
Chuck looked up – actually surprising, since he usually didn't even seem to listen when they met. “You really think so?” the God wanted to know.  
Crowley sighed. “No, probably not.”  
“Then why do you ask?”  
King of Hell cocked his head for a short moment. “True thing. So they'll continue killing my demons the rest of their lives?”  
Chuck shook his head. “No, demons and angels will stop provoking them, so they'll show grace.”  
“Nice.” Crowley nodded.  
“So I won't see them again?” Death asked.  
Chuck smiled. “Only one last time at the real end of their lives.”  
Death nodded. “That's good. They're really nerve-racking.”  
“I know what you mean,” Crowley agreed. “Bet Chuck knows too. They brought a lot of trouble upon heaven, didn't they?”  
Chuck's smile got a little brighter. “They did, ye-”  
“Sorry?” they got interrupted and all of them looked up.

“Yes?” they asked with one voice.  
The, from what he looked like, police officer, who had dared to interrupt their talk looked from one to the other. “I'm sorry to stop your talk, but I think you've to come with me now. Some of the people here feel disturbed by your talk and they are a little … worried about your … health,” he said slowly. It was clear he didn't believed in their mental health.  
Crowley started smiling and looked back to his two “friends”, ignoring the police man. “I'm sorry you two-” he started. “-but I rally don't think I would like to go to a loony bin, so … Chuck.” He nodded at the man, who had started sorting his papers as if he wanted to get out soon. “Death.” He nodded at the other one and slowly started to raise himself from the chair. “And next time we'll see somewhere else, alright?”  
Death only drank his tea, didn't even seem to notice the police man or anything else right now, and Chuck bowed his head. “Sure, just suggest something to us then.” And right when God ended his sentence, Crowley was gone.  
“Well-” Now it was Chuck who raised himself from the chair, picking up all his papers. “I'd also prefer to keep writing in freedom, so I'd say I wish you a good time until our next meeting.”  
Death only drank the last sip from his tea, before setting the cup down again. “Same to you, old friend, same to you.”  
And when Chuck was gone too, only a split second later, and left nothing there, Death finally raised himself and turned to the police officer that stared at the place where Chuck and Crowley had been only one moment ago. Eventually he turned back to Death, who just stepped around the table and took his crutch.  
When he looked up to the stranger again, he could clearly see the disbelieving in the man's eyes.  
“So,” he started. “I've all the time of the world.” He slowly took a step to the police man. “But even if I only had minutes, I'd have more time than you.” And with that he reached out and touched the officer that immediately fell down to the floor. Death sighed and tuned to the door. “Time to go back to work,” he mumbled to himself, before taking his ring, and disappearing from the sights of the humans too.


End file.
